


Blood Sports VII: Blind

by Kitty Fisher (kittyfisher)



Series: Blood Sports [7]
Category: Smallville
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-10
Updated: 2012-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyfisher/pseuds/Kitty%20Fisher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sweet sex... Blood Sports stylee</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Sports VII: Blind

Blood Sports VII: BLIND  
Kitty Fisher 

 

The mirror was new. Huge, ornately framed, wildly extravagant, like something from a palace, or a fairy story - vast, reflecting the whole room, it almost filled the wall opposite Lex's bed. Clark whistled silently in appreciation, and looked into Lex's reflection. "Where did you find this?" 

"In France. Not that I found it. Word was put out I was looking for one, and this is what appeared." 

There were faint marks where the silvering showed through, a few places where the carved frame was damaged. "How old is it?" 

"Two hundred and twenty years, give or take." 

"No wonder it's a little, um, worn." 

"Heathen. According to the vendor, it came from the Petit Trianon and belonged to Marie Antoinette, not that I'm actually putting money on that." 

"Er, she was a queen?" he guessed wildly, taking a swig from his water bottle. 

"Yes. Of France. The one who had her head chopped off by the guillotine." 

"Oh yeah, aristocrats in pretty clothes and the mob in rags." 

"You watched the Scarlet Pimpernel then." 

"Mom loved it." 

"You did too. Come on, what's not to love - disguise and chivalry, a fair maid lost - and won - a villain vanquished." Lex slipped his hands into his pockets. "And you get swordfights." 

"Now I know why you liked it!" 

"Swordfights - and a villain who looked as if what he really wanted was to fuck the hero." 

"How did you get to be this perverted?" 

"Ah - in this case because Cherry was teaching me. She can watch anything and see sexual subtext. Star Wars through Cherry's eyes is a completely different film." 

"As long as she left Jar Jar alone..." He shuddered. 

"This is Cherry, Clark. Obviously she had a far greater interest in Obi Wan." 

Clark turned and put the bottle on a side table. The room was full of a weird, moody light. A storm was brewing, and outside the windows the sky was thick with rainclouds. "I can't believe we've got the whole weekend." 

"It was very obliging of your second cousin sixteen times removed, or whatever she is, to have a wedding two states away." He came and peered out of the window, his long back somehow taut with energy, with contained expectation. 

"I was almost a ringbearer. Until they found out I'm 6ft 4 and eight inches taller than the groom." 

"Lucky escape. A ringbearer, huh?" Lex eyed him. 

Clark just shook his head. "No. Not even for you." 

"But I might have a thing for short pants - or, don't tell, a sailor suit!" 

"Lex..." Clark frowned slightly, trying to see from Lex's bland expression if he was joking. Which he had to be? Surely... "Lex, please tell me you're not serious?" 

"Yeah, I'm teasing." He grinned, sharklike. "But would you've dressed up for me if I wasn't?" 

"Been dork of the week?" Clark considered for all of a half breath, then admitted the unthinkable. "You know I would." 

"Ah, Clark. Have I mentioned recently how much we were made for each other?" 

"Once or twice, maybe." Clark shrugged slightly, smiling shyly. He still felt amazed that Lex loved him this much. Wanted him this much. "How's your arm?" 

"Looking good. I'm positively pristine - no bruises, and all the marks have faded." 

"Can I see?" 

"Clark, if you didn't want to check me out naked, I would be really disappointed." 

"Mm, naked..." 

"Oh, that woke you up." 

"Well, it is Saturday morning, and we do have the whole weekend, so maybe..." He walked to Lex, licked his lips in a hopefully artful way. "Maybe we could, you know, fuck." 

"I am such a bad influence. You mother is going to blame me entirely for the deterioration in your vocabulary, you know that." 

"It took a while, but I can finally say fuck without blushing." 

"Can you? I wonder..." 

"Lex, what are you plotting now?" 

"Making you blush, of course." 

"But..." 

"It's very sexy. Innocence debauched. Artists through the centuries have made a fortune over it." 

"Wasn't the innocent usually a girl?" 

"The artists were constrained by social mores." 

"Oh." 

"I'm not." Lex ran his hand under Clark's shirt, curving up his ribs, making him shiver. "I like the idea of debauching you." 

"That's, er, good. Ah... Jesus." Scrape of nail on skin, jerking as his nipple was tweaked. 

"Clark, go and look on the bed - there are a couple of options for today's entertainment." 

"Options?" The hand was removed, his shirt patted back into place. 

"Yeah, see how you feel." Direct look, wide-eyed, slightly distanced. 

God, Clark hated it when Lex was plotting something. "Have you been catalogue shopping again?" 

"Internet." Lex walked with him, arrogant smile crooked on his lips. "The choices are very different. Not that we can't do both. Both of them over this weekend, if you want." 

"Lex, if it's sex with you, you think I'll say no?" 

Smirk. "I like to be sure of these things." 

Clark growled. At the bed he stopped. There were two boxes on the comforter, one about a three foot oblong, the other small and square. "Do I pick at random, you know, eeny, meeny, miney?" 

"No, you need to know what they are. I don't want to force anything on you." 

"As if." 

"Well, persuade against your will, then." 

"Ha ha." Clark shook his head. "You wouldn't. I know you. You're careful with me, Lex, always." 

"Too careful?" 

"Maybe... Sometimes." Smile. "But I can't imagine how what we do could be better." 

"From your vast experience? That makes my heart proud." 

"Hey, I can imagine. And you know what I mean." 

Lex relented. "Yes, I do." His voice softened. "That goes both ways, Clark. You always get it right." 

"Thanks." 

"Told you you could still blush." 

"Dammit." Clark knew he was grinning. 

"Don't... it's very sweet." 

"I'm not sure I'm aiming for sweet with you, Lex." 

"Open the boxes, choose what you want to be today." 

Clark looked at the packages - both boxes were thick cream cardboard, lightly embossed with a geometric design. Both were tied up with the same type of ribbon, matte black, slender. "Which one first?" 

"Well..." Lex pursed his lips, considered. "The long one." 

"A stuffed snake?" Clark pulled at the bow, watching it uncurl. "A half-size pool cue?" 

"Nope." 

The lid, heavy and solid, opened to show pale grey tissue paper; it rustled as he reached inside. His fingers met something slim, slightly textured. He pulled it out of the box. "Wow." 

Very faint vulnerability in Lex's voice. "I wasn't sure you'd like it." 

"Lex..." Clark held the riding crop balanced in his hands. "It's beautiful." Slender black leather, woven from its silver handle, all the way down its elegant length, to the tiny plaited tails at its narrow, wicked end. He held it, swished it through the air. The sound it made was surprisingly loud, the whip whistling as he tested it. "Wow, it'll hurt so much!" He looked up, caught Lex looking at him, saw the dilation in his eyes, the hunger. "Lex, I've never used anything like it, except riding, and horses have much thicker skin than you." 

"You know I love what we do - what you do to me. I adore your hands, Clark, and the way you can hurt me and make me feel so much pleasure. But this is different. Yes, it will hurt. A lot. But it's so hot. And the idea of you using it on me." He licked his lips, looked up uncertainly. "I couldn't resist it." Reaching out, he fingered the supple leather. "I got a hard-on just looking at it." 

Clark heard himself swallow. "What if I make you bleed?" 

"Then you can kiss me better." Lex smiled suddenly. "It worked on my arm, didn't it? Besides, I think you like a little blood in our play - you get off on it, there's no need to pretend otherwise." 

"But..." 

"My blood, Clark." Stepping back, hands on the hem of his shirt, he quickly peeled it off, let it fall onto the bed. He turned slightly, lifted his arm. "See?" The cross, perfect, healed to a dark red scar. "Is it because it's human, different? Or because it's mine?" 

"Lex." Clark sighed the name, lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his fingers over the raised mark. "This was - is - amazing. The blood was... an experience. Why it turns me on? I don't know. But I think about you, about your blood pumping around your body. I can hear it, hot and thick and - sorry." 

"Don't apologise! Ever." Instant reaction, muscles tightening, his intense gaze fixed on Clark. "Just remember I like your kinks. All of them." As abruptly as he had tensed, he relaxed, letting his arm fall to his side. "Though if you turn vampire I might be a bit peeved." 

"I might be anything." 

"Ah, the unknown alien. Clark, if you haven't turned into a bloodsucker by now, I doubt if you're going to. Just settle for being a pervert and be done with it. Suck my blood three times a week if it gets you off, but don't start a guilt trip over it. I want you to thrash me with the crop. I want it to hurt, Clark. I want you to make me scream and cry. Jesus... and if that stops turning you on as much as it does me, then we are well and truly fucked." 

Clark felt his lips quirk. "I don't think there's much of a problem then. And I only get guilty over the blood thing when I think about it." 

"Then don't think. Just do. Sometimes you're so damn human you make me feel like the alien. Look, if I ever complain, then you get to stop, but until then, we do what pleases us - both of us." 

"Yeah." Sigh. "And Lex, I know you're not an alien - no tentacles. I would've noticed." 

"I've got a hard-on, does that count instead?" Lex inquired hopefully. 

"I'd have to check it out." 

"Mmm, doctor and patient - that's a game we haven't played!" 

"Lex, Lex, what did I say about you?" 

"That I'm a pervert? Hey, Clark, come on in, the water's lovely." 

"I'm swimming with you, Lex, you know that." 

"Yeah, right out in the clear water of total perversity." Lex smiled. 

"With a riding crop." 

"And a drawer full of lube." 

"Oh, yeah..." 

"And a second box to open. Go on." 

Clark collected himself. Deep breaths. He put the crop down on the bed, and reached for the smaller package. More ribbon; it unfurled as he tugged one end. 

Pulling the single item from the pale rose tissue, he stopped. Blinked. "Lex?" 

"The opposite side of the coin. Hold it up to your eyes." 

Clark lifted the leather blindfold. It was a mask, with a strap to fasten it behind the head. It was also very heavy, stiffly moulded into the shape of eyes and brow and cheekbone. He held it up to his eyes, staring at the silk lining. "It's lovely." 

"Now try to look through it." 

Clark willed his extra vision, peering hard. Nothing. He tried the wall, and stared straight through to the next room. The blindfold again. "What the...?" 

"It's lead lined." Lex was smiling, smug, almost bouncing on his toes. 

"For me." Not a question, though Clark nodded to himself as if answering. 

"Tailor made." 

Clark didn't even try to guess how Lex had gotten the measurements of his face. Lex was inscrutable in many ways, and he liked to remain that way. "Thank you." 

"My pleasure. And it will be. We talked about swapping roles, I thought it might be time to try." He looked curiously at Clark, sounding more as if asking what Clark wanted for lunch rather than something quite so world-turning. "What d'you think?" 

To let Lex indulge. To have a glimpse into something Lex took to an art form. Clark fingered the mask's strap. "I think... yes." 

"This rather than the crop?" 

"This first." God, yes, this first. To taste what Lex experienced. To understand... "But, Lex, the pain thing. I don't hurt." 

"I don't want to hurt you. But I can make you feel; your responses to touch are as fine as any I've ever come across. Finer than most. You're invulnerable, Clark, not insensate." 

Clark looked at Lex ruefully. "Sometimes I wish I was, you know, normal." 

"Don't." Lex looked into his eyes, challengingly. "You're perfect as you are. And you're mine, Clark Kent. Mine." 

"Yes." Clark agreed, warmth spreading from his gut as he looked into Lex's eyes and read the truth there. "I can't help but wonder, though." He looked at the scar. "And wish I could feel everything you do." 

"Maybe one day we'll bring some of the meteor rocks into the bedroom. When we've worked out how they affect you, how much to use, all that stuff. I want you to enjoy being vulnerable. Not be so ill you can't get a hard on." 

Clark groaned as his cock swelled further, uncurling awkwardly in the tightness of his jeans. "I don't think that's a problem right now." 

"Good." Wicked smile. "Besides, this is an experiment - you might not enjoy it." 

"I trust you." 

"Enjoying this stuff is only partly about trust, it's also about want, need, about a visceral response to being constrained, used, that isn't part of everyone. You're naturally dominant; getting on your knees when I tell you to may not do it for you." 

Clark took Lex's hand, placed it on his cock. "This likes the idea." 

Lex squeezed once, then slid his hand away. "I know." Carefully he took the blindfold from Clark's hands. Looked down at the leather, then glanced up, eyes cool, daring. "And it starts here. Clark, take your clothes off and go and stand by the mirror." 

Half-breath, caught somewhere under his diaphragm, Clark looked at Lex and wondered if his eyes were dilating. Lex looked sombre, controlled, different. It had begun. A trickle of something like fear. More like anticipation. Clark let the breath out. Nodded. His fingers were reaching for buttons before he had really made a conscious thought. 

Clark pulled his shirt off, folded it - almost neatly - and put it on the bed. Toeing out of his trainers, he skinned off his T-shirt, repeating the folding process, laying it on his shirt. Socks next, he tucked one into each shoe, both shoes slid under the bed. Jeans came last. Unsnapped, unzipped, and peeled off, complete with underwear. Folded, they were placed with the rest of his clothes. Naked, Clark hesitated, then he walked over to the mirror, trying to appear confident, at ease. His cock was still hard; it bounced as he walked and he found himself watching it. About two feet away from the mirror he stood still. 

"Wait, just like that." 

Clark nodded. He looked at their reflections; saw Lex, his naked torso so lean and perfect as he bent and stretched, clearing the bed of boxes and tissue and clothing. He was taking his time, being neat. As a way of starting the torment, it seemed as good as any. Clark sighed. When Lex finally walked towards him, he felt the skin on his arms rise in goosebumps. 

"Clark, kneel down, just where you are." 

He swallowed. His throat was tight. Clark knelt. One knee, then both. It felt odd. Seeing Lex only in reflection was strange, too. 

"Clark, look at yourself in the mirror and tell me what you see." 

What he saw? God... what did he see... "Me. Naked. I've got a hard on." He shrugged slightly, watching the corresponding lift of his shoulders almost in surprise. 

"What do you look like, dorky or good?" 

Clark frowned a little. "Good. Maybe." 

"Only maybe?" Lex stood behind him, fingers brushing his shoulders. "You are gorgeous, Clark. Your body is stunning, and to see you like this, naked, hot and hard, kneeling, it's a pretty wild turn on." 

Clark looked again. His eyes widened as a tremor ran through his muscles. His cock jerked once. "I'm not that good looking." 

"You're a prize, Clark. You're fucking amazingly gorgeous and you have no idea. Your cock alone would have every size-queen in Metropolis lining up at your door, then there's the hair and the eyes and sheer muscle of you. Believe me, Clark; you should have no image problems. Unless you have a problem being a sextoy?" 

"Oh, no." He watched his own embarrassment. His instant flush. 

"Clark, what you see is sex. You're naked because I want to look at you. You're on your knees because I want you to be. You're hard because I'm going to fuck you. You're sex, Clark. For me." 

"Lex..." 

"Pretty boy. Grab your cock." 

Gulping air, Clark took hold of it, the length so hot in his hand, his own touch enough to make him gasp. 

"Now, just ease your hand up and down... skin it back for me, I want to see all of you." 

Slightly uneven movements, he did it, hissing as the touch shot reaction right through his body. As he watched, his balls tightened and precum oozed from his slit. 

"Don't come, though." Amused Lex. So very amused. Clark's gaze flickered up at him. "You can come when I tell you to." Lex, the happy sadist. "Keep stroking, nice and smooth, not too tight a grip. Slow as you like." 

"God..." 

"Mmm." Suddenly Lex was holding the mask just above Clark's face. "Now, one last look. See how in control you look - yeah, you're horny, but your cock is in your hand so what else would you be, but you're not begging me." Clark watched himself, lips parting softly, set into a gasp. "Now I'm taking sight away. Watch the mask as it slides on, Clark, now you see... and now you don't." 

Darkness. Something so strange in his world that Clark wasn't sure he really knew what complete darkness was. Until now. The lead lining took away everything: light, vision, knowing. He felt Lex fastening the buckles. Felt as his hair was eased gently out of the way. The sudden loss of sense almost made him giddy. He must have swayed slightly, for Lex touched his shoulder, grounding him. 

"Keep stroking, Clark. I want to see how hot you find this. Or I'll stop." 

Lex, stopping this. Clark swallowed, licking his lips, tasting sweat there as he moved his fist on his cock. Stroking, his shaft thick and pulsing in his hand, hard. So hard. 

"Pretty. The mask suits you. Dark curls, golden skin, black leather. You're a fucking wet-dream, Clark." Lex's voice, very close, then a kiss on his shoulder. Another on the side of his jaw. Breathy, warm, mint mingling with the sweeter tang of leather, the rising salty sex scent from his own cock. A hand stroked over one of his nipples, delicate, yet enough to make him start. Lex, shushing, calming him, the fingers teasing harder, harder. Pleasure like a flame, searing through nerves, muscles... 

"Lex..." 

"Don't come, Clark. Take your hand away." 

With a shudder, Clark pulled his hand away, skin sticking to skin. He took a deep breath, nodded. 

"Better. Now stand up." 

It was surprisingly difficult, just rising to his feet. He stood there waiting, his mind a choppy mix of desires and needs, his thoughts wanting to know what Lex was doing, what the sounds he could hear meant, while the center of him, the jerk-off sex-now part wanted just that; to come, to feed the raging need that was pumping his blood fast, making his heartbeat thrum in his ears. 

"Put your hands behind your back. Good. These couldn't hold you if you wanted to break out of them, but I want you to imagine they could." 

Clark nodded. Understanding as handcuffs were snapped around his wrists, the cold metal warming immediately with the heat of his skin. He flexed his arms slightly, felt the way they were trapped behind him. After a second he kept still, wondering what he looked like now, blindfolded and bound. His cock jerked, arousal a sharp pain deep behind his balls. 

"Now turn around. Face me." 

Small steps. Guessing when he was a half-turn around. Lex's hands cupping his face as a reward. Clark kissed skin, licked Lex's palm; sighed as Lex leant into him, the sigh breaking into a groan as his cock rubbed against Lex's pants, skin rasping on wool. Lex tightened his hold, brought Clark's face down to his kiss, mouth to mouth, teasing warmth, skin like velvet. Kissing lips to lips, gentle, then Lex was backing away, fingers slowly leaving Clark's skin. "Oh..." 

"Clark, don't move." 

He wasn't going to. He stayed still, listened to soft sounds, maybe Lex getting undressed. Maybe something else. His hearing was acute, but it didn't make up for the lack of sight. He stood quite still. A sharp rattle of sound, and he knew the promised rain had arrived. Wind whistling from somewhere, more rain, gusting against the glass. The sounds were cold. Yet all he could feel was heat. 

And he almost screamed as Lex swallowed his cock. Stumbling, nearly falling, he braced his legs, shuddering as Lex took him right into his throat. Tight, so tight. And if he'd been hot before, now he was on fire. 

"Lex!" His voice, but not his voice, the sound broken, rough, laden with need. "Please..." He couldn't come, but he would, one more slide into Lex's mouth and he'd - 

"Don't!" 

Gasping, knees burning from the need not to buckle, Clark cried out as Lex's mouth abandoned him. "God..." 

"Control it." 

Peremptory command. His cock spearing into thin air. He didn't come. Part of him wondered if the dampness on his cheeks was from sweat or from frustration. 

"Good." 

He jumped. A hand on his ribs, flat and just resting there. The only place Lex was touching him. "Oh..." 

"Clark. In a moment, I'm going to make you kneel. Then I'm going to fuck you." 

Oh, God! Just the words. Almost too much. "Lex -" 

"Your first time." 

Lex never had before. Never, despite every persuasion Clark had been able to muster. But now, now he was going to. Clark wondered if he was going to faint. The darkness of his sight was a bright constellation of pinpoint lights. "Lex, do it. Please..." 

"You're ready." 

And it was the truth. Lex had fucked him with his fingers, with a dildo, but never his cock. He nodded, hesitated; remembering Lex on his knees. Behind the mask he squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he was right. "Yes. Lex, thank you." 

Amusement. "Good boy. Submissive pretty boy just about to give up his ass. I'm going to ride you, Clark, so hard. Now turn around and get back on your knees." 

Desire, and something like panic in his throat, Clark turned. He'd lost all sense of where he was, but he obeyed and knelt, knees hitting the floor with a thud. Sitting back, he waited, breathless. More sounds. The rip of paper tearing. A condom. Jesus, a condom. This was happening. Lex was finally doing it. Him. Clark sucked in a breath, heard himself whimper. 

Lex, getting closer. Getting ready to fuck him. 

Now. 

Lex there, skin on skin, tension like electricity sparking internally where they touched. Kneeling behind him. A hand between his shoulder blades, pushing. "Bend forward, get your face on the floor." 

Hands still cuffed, he leant forward, less easy than it sounded. Pressing his cheek to the carpet, he spread his thighs unasked. A hand stroked down his flank, making his muscles twitch in response. His cock too. He gasped as cool lube was teased into his asshole. A finger, easing in and out, spreading the gel quickly. Clark settled, the stretch in his shoulders sweet as he knelt, ass high in the air. 

"Don't come." And that was all Lex said. 

Sure movements, touches, as Lex got ready. Clark felt the hairs on his body lift as Lex was kneeling too, his body tucked behind Clark's. Close. Closer, as Lex's cock pushed against him and then - blunt nudge of cockhead into his balls, then tight against his anus. 

He was going to be fucked. By Lex. 

Saliva was choking him. He swallowed, held on a knife's edge of anticipation, just there, ready; the moment stretched and held, and he was going to scream, scream... 

And Lex's cock pushed inside him. 

There was nothing like pain. Just a wildly erotic stretching of his body as Lex slowly eased inside. Thick cock spearing him. Pleasure like a snowstorm of lust, blinding the already blind, taking sense and feeling and transmuting it directly into a sweet need. A sensation like nothing he had ever felt before. 

And Lex was all the way inside, his belly curved around Clark's ass, his breathing shallow, fast, edged by a groan that was not quite there. A hand on Clark's back, winding through his fingers, then tugging on the chain linking the cuffs. Lex held on tight, and thrust. 

Ridden, fucked, riding a crest of desire, Clark ground his face into the carpet and slammed his ass back onto Lex's cock, meeting every push. The groaning was real, a guttural chanting of Clark's name, close to incoherent sounds that lashed Clark, the wild need as sharp and desperate as he had ever felt. Lex fucked him brutally, cock slamming into him, pounding him. Submission not a question but a demand. Clark felt himself give, felt his muscles just seem to dissolve as he focussed entirely on feeling. Just feeling. On taking every sensation and channelling it into lust, into desire, into the untouched ache of his cock and balls. And he knew he was going to come. 

That Lex was too. 

The hand wound around the chain pulled hard. "Kneel up. Don't - " Vicious thrust. " - come yet." 

"Lex..." Formless word, his mouth incapable. But Clark knelt back. He shuddered as Lex's cock ground as deep as possible inside him. He could feel Lex, kneeling with him, one hand around his waist, holding on. 

"Clark, say - fuck me, Lex." 

"Yes... Lex, fuck me." His whole body jerked as he said the words. The dirty, porn movie words that he'd never said before, not like this, not while Lex was actually fucking him. 

"Say fuck." 

Oh... Lex was a bastard. "Fuck..." That word. One bare syllable of need. It summed the universe. Summed it all. "Fuck, me, please, Lex!" 

"Yesss." Sibilant sound that blended into a moan as Lex stripped off the blindfold. "Say it again, Clark." 

The mirror. Bodies. And a stranger. Dark, drugged eyes, wild hair, sweat shining on skin, on muscles ripped taut with need. Clark looked helplessly at the image, at his cock pumping air, at the shape of Lex's hand on his belly, the long fingers clasping him, owning him. "Lex... fuck me." 

Holding on, gripping him tight, one hand reaching to hold his cock, Lex did. Pumping Clark's cock as he thrust hard and deep, and Clark just dissolved, coming so hard he screamed, the sound choked in his throat as he arched, coming in great spasms, semen spattering the carpet, the mirror, as Lex was suddenly statue-still, mouth wide, his cock spilling heat, filling Clark, owning him. 

The chain binding Clark's wrists snapped, and he fell forward, Lex toppling with him. 

His heart took a long time to stop pounding. They lay still, touching, Clark close to insensible. After a while, Lex gripped Clark's shoulder in warning, then eased his softening cock free. Half dazed, Clark identified the sound of the condom being stripped off, of it being tossed aside. Lex climbed to his feet, offered a hand. 

"Bed." 

It sounded like a good idea. Clark slowly made it upright, walking straight into an embrace that somehow had them stumbling to the bed, collapsing onto it, wrapped in each other, in kisses and touches. Lex was stroking Clark's back, their bodies sticky, satiated. 

Clark shivered. Remembered. "Lex." 

"Mm?" 

"Thank you." 

Clark felt the smile against his shoulder. "You enjoyed?" 

"Yes. The blindfold, everything, just - amazing." He sighed, stretching, feeling the difference in his body. "And the fuck." 

"Worth waiting for?" 

"Yes." Clark nodded slowly. He lifted his head, met Lex's eyes. He grinned, suddenly aware that he was intensely happy. "And I'm not a virgin anymore." 

"I hate to break this to you, but you haven't been a virgin in a while." 

"But now I can't even be gotten on a technicality." 

"No. And you liked it. I noticed that, being observant." 

"I did. And asking you to fuck me." Ah... yes, even the memory... 

"You're blushing." Lex was smiling. 

"Lex, you'd make a porn star blush, I swear." 

"Not interested in porn stars, just you." 

Sudden shift of mood. Clark caught his breath and looked at Lex. After a while he smiled. "Lex." 

"Clark." Answering smile. Love like breathing, there without conscious thought. "And we have the whole weekend. I wonder if I can make you blush again?" 

"You like a challenge." 

"Yeah, I do."


End file.
